


Reunion

by nick_i_kenicki



Category: Life Is Strange 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Casual, Fugitive, Life is Strange 2 Spoilers, M/M, Parting Ways Ending, Post Ending, Rekindled Romance, Reunions, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-18 04:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21821482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nick_i_kenicki/pseuds/nick_i_kenicki
Summary: Ever since leaving Daniel at the border, Sean has been living in Mexico as Eduardo Diaz. Life has been going somewhat well. That is untill he gets a letter from an old friend to meet at a nearby resort. The hints of the past and the sparks of an old romance play into their reunion.
Relationships: Sean Diaz & Finn, Sean Diaz/Finn
Comments: 12
Kudos: 109





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> This fic specifically focuses on the romance between Sean and Finn so there won't be too much backstory on how Sean has lived in Puerto Lobos or Daniel unfortunately but I may make a fic more on that subject.

Sean found that lying didn't feel as much like lying when there was a bit of truth to it, so when he changed his name, he kept it simple. Eduardo. His middle name. It stuck out less and raised fewer questions.

Sean Diaz was a fugitive. Eduardo Diaz was not. He was a nobody. An average Mexican guy who just happened to speak English very well. No one to bat an eyelash at. 

And as things were, he had spent almost as much time being Eduardo as he had being Sean. Soon, the name he owned as that carefree Seattle teen would seem more like the alias than Eduardo. 

Maybe he was being complacent. Maybe complacency needed company.

Sean got a letter in the mail with a brochure stapled to it. The pages showed a beautiful resort a few miles away, a grandiose place littered with tourists who wouldn't dare travel inland. American families who left their children to play unsupervised and dirty up the beach. Even though he had friends who worked up there, Sean hated it. The artificiality was the worst of it.

The letter wasn't from one of his friends though. It was from somebody from a past much older. A flash in his memory so fast that it felt more like a dream. The curly handwriting on the page struck such a painfully familiar chord that if Sean hadn't had the note there in his hand, then he would have suspected that he had lost his mind to dream it up.

The name Finn McNamara was glaring at him from the outside of the envelope.

Sean turned the page around in his shaking hands over and over. On one hand he was too scared to leave it alone and on the other, he was too scared to know what it said. The fear of missing the voice on the page swallowed Sean before he could contemplate it too much though and he began to read.

The note read:

Hi. I don't have a normal-sounding introduction so I'll just tell you straight up that I maybe searched through every Diaz I could find that set up shop near Puerto Lobos in the last few years (which, God damn, is more than you'd think) and found this address. I hope this is you wolf boy because this would be weird if it isn't. I dunno, it's probably weird if it is. Anyways, I want to find you and reconnect or whatever the fuck you wanna call it. Please don't think I'm a stalker. I just been missing you something fierce and thought "what the hell" since I've been staying down here. So please, if you can, come meet me tomorrow at noon. Or write me back to let me know you're still out there. I don't know. Just want to see you again man.

Your friend, Finn

It was stupid to go. Stupider than stupid. It was a suicide mission. Sean made rules for himself when he first got to Mexico. One of the biggest ones was avoiding busy areas and places where he was more likely to get recognized. His face was in the news, and while he was able to blend into obscurity, he and Finn together was a recipe for disaster. The one eyed Mexican and the white trash hippie.

No. It was a no. It had to be no.

Yet, Sean couldn't force himself to throw the letter away. He just held it. 

What if it wasn't a trap? What if things went well? Sean had been yearning for his old life. That was the problem with being Eduardo, he had no childhood. No friends from the past. He just sprang up a fully grown guy in the middle of nowhere. Those little callbacks to the person he could have been were too tantalizing to ignore. He had to go.

So against all good judgement. He went. 

....

Finn looked strikingly similar and different, like somebody had taken everything Sean had written about him over the years and made a replica. Maybe his face was a little too quirky, his eyes a little too green, toothy smile a little too wide. It was a great caricature that felt unreal in the world beyond those few weeks in the woods.

"Howdy," Finn said. His voice still had that little twang, but the California had seeped in. It was like an actor was voicing him during a table read of the character. It was the undefined version of Finn, the version they included in the bloopers. All he needed was a little tweaking from the director to be perfect. There was no director though, it was just Sean, Finn, and the years apart that stood between them.

Something about the ambiguity of it all was comforting though. Since they didn't know how to respond to each other, nothing Sean could do would be disappointing.

"Hi," he tried. Even though English didn't feel right on his voice anymore, Sean found that it worked well enough.

Finn smiled a little and gestured for Sean to join him on the beach. There were beach chairs a little ways from the area most of the guests played in the surf. A hotel staff came and took Finn's order as soon as they got comfortable.

"Uh, we'll have two mojitos."

"Sorry. I think I'll pass actually."

Finn looked at him funny for a moment, but just shrugged. "Well, you heard the man. Just one mojito then. Garcias."

The pause while they waited for the drink to come back seemed to last ages. Sean was sure it probably looked strange to the waitress, like that strange moment people quieted down before gossiping. Waiting waiting waiting.

She eventually brought the drink and scurried away after Finn handed her a wad of money. He told her to keep the change. If they had been younger Sean would have asked him what the money was all about, but he had learned to bite his tongue. 

After another tense silence, they began to speak. Their conversations consisted of half finished stories and unsaid clarifications. Sean grasped for anything to talk about.

"Nice tattoo."

"Yeah? Pretty cool, right? I actually got it in jail a few years ago."

"....Oh. Damn. Was that because of what happened back at the farm?"

"No no. I mean yeah, but I broke parole anyways so it was a long time coming, you know?"

"Yeah."

The tension was so thick it was getting hard to breathe. Finn must have felt the same way because he threw something random out for the next conversation

"Have you seen that one show? About those kids who–"

"Uh those shows don't really air here. We don't have that channel..." 

"Shit. Sorry."

"You didn't know." Sean bit the inside of his cheek. Might as well ask. "So have you linked up with the old crew recently?"

"I haven't really seen them since you left."

"Oh."

"Yeah… heh."

Finn laughed but it was joyless. Sean knew it was a sore subject but he didn't know what else to talk about. He didn't know where to pick up. What to say to the boy who used to hold such a special piece of his heart.

Sean felt the silence stretch thin between them and grasped for a topic, any topic. "This is such a tourist area," he announced to no one in particular.

It didn't have much to do with anything, but it was something. Finn titled his head towards Sean. "Whatcha saying, sweetie? You too good for a resort?" He asked while looking over the rims of his sunglasses."Not authentic enough for your pretentious ass?" 

"Finn, I'm fucking Mexican. This stuff is borderline offensive." Sean said with a gesture at the fanfare around them. The decorations on the buildings and the costumes the waitresses wore were a mass amalgamation of stereotypes.

Finn lifted his plastic glass to pantomime a cheer. "And I'm a fucking tourist so let me enjoy my watered down mojitos in peace." He downed what little bit of the beverage was left.

"You're insufferable."

"And you are adorable."

Sean caught himself smiling wide at Finn. Moments like that felt all too familiar. Laughing together and throwing back sassy remarks was like rekindling an old muscle memory.

Too bad the sweet always had to be undercut with the bitter.

Finn turned in his chair to face Sean while he took off his sunglasses. His face was suddenly deadpan."You know I don't really know how to talk to you anymore," he admitted. It was like he was finally coming down from the weirdness of it all. "I mean, we only knew each other for about a few weeks. Hell, we barely even knew each other's last names before deciding to feel all those feelings for each other."

The sincerity in his voice was almost alarming. It rang like a crisp wake up call to Sean that Finn had actually grown up. He wasn't that dumb kid, high as a kite and drunk on southern charm anymore. He was a man Sean barely knew.

Sean watched Finn for a few beats before asking, "Do you think this was a mistake? To meet and just jump back in like this?"

Finn kept his eyes trained on the sparkling shore. "Maybe. I don't know, but it does feel like some kind of special that we met up again. Like the cosmos was trying to keep us apart so long that we're fucking up fate by doing this," he said with a little gesture to the sky.

What exactly they were doing was hard to discern.

Finn got up. Sean followed him with his eyes. "I think I'm gonna head back to my room. Powder my nose or whatever the fuck before dinner," he said with the type of yawn people in movies did when they were ready to call it a day. "Join me later for room service?"

"Sure," Sean said as he rose to Finn's side. When they saw each other for the first time again, he wasn't sure if he could touch Finn, but now his arms were itching for it. They were in love with the idea of feeling him, of recreating those stolen moments back on the farm.

"Would it be weird to hug?" Sean spit out against his better judgement. He looked down so the inevitable rejection wouldn't hit as hard.

Finn just tilted his head, then laughed. "Hell, probably. But I still want to anyways." He mirrored Sean's sheepish glance away. "If you want to, that is."

Sean looked up and surveyed the area around them. The beach wasn't busy but it wasn't quite empty either. There were American families playing near the shore and hotel staff lingering near the bar to send off drinks. They were all mostly distracted with their own tasks, and even the ones who weren't didn't pay them much mind. He and Finn weren't making enough of a scene to raise any eyebrows.

To an outsider, the pair was probably hard to scrutinize. They obviously weren't related and they hadn't acted in any way to suggest they were lovers. Hell the hadn't even acted like friends. Not that it would matter if they were anything though. All kinds of couples came to popular resorts. Two men were nothing to gawk at. Sean also figured it was just a hug. It wasn't like they were doing anything scandalous.

Sean had to repeat that to himself over and over again as he moved in to hold Finn. He held his breath but his arms knew the routine like they'd never been apart and suddenly they were wrapped up in each other.

Finn fell into the embrace like a warm hello. It was all arms, then a tight, clumsy hold. Squeezing against each other. They were magnets that couldn't quite let go. Just two people trying their best to avoid acknowledging their beating hearts. 

Since they were about matched in height, Finn buried his face into the crook of Sean's neck with ease. His eyelashes, nose ring and burning lips pressed into Sean's exposed skin so hard that it felt like they would leave indentations. Sean didn't know what to do with his hands so he ran trails along Finn's back. 

He traced slow, deliberate lines up the curl of Finn's spine and back down. Up and down, up and down, until he slowed to a stop at the base of Finn's neck. Gingerly, Sean curled his fingers around the back of Finn's neck and gave a light squeeze. It was too intimate yet not close enough. 

Finn exhaled into the touch and went slack against Sean. "You can't do this to me hun," Finn started in a dreamy voice. "You know I get obsessed." The warmth of his little laugh against Sean's skin burned.

"What can't I do?" Sean asked with a sudden burst of confidence. He had no idea where the bravery had come from, but he wanted to utilize it. He turned his face so he was buried into Finn's neck too. Lips to skin. Skin to lips.

"This Sean. You can't go making me all soft when you know I never got over you," Finn said. His voice was throaty and weak. It was hard to tell if that was a side effect of the alcohol or the intimacy, but Sean knew he wanted a taste of it too.

He pulled Finn close to the building, in a secluded spot out of the visitor's immediate view.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

Sean kissed him square on the mouth, blunt and messy. The inexperience from all his years alone showing through. He was nearly 30 kissing with the fervor of a teen.

Finn's lip curled into the kiss. Either enjoying the sensation or letting some of his amusement poke through. The kiss deepened and Sean felt a slip of tongue. With it, a cool metal ball clink against his teeth. 

If Finn would have had his tongue pierced back in Humboldt, Sean would have dropped everything to kiss him right then and there. Sexuality be damned, he would have done anything if he would have had the chance to kiss Finn. Thankfully though, he was experiencing it now with a proper head on his shoulders. Or at least enough sense to know he wanted to do it again.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it, I tried to get this out as soon as possible. I love when people talk about their favorite parts so let's talk :)


End file.
